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[somepoorsoul]

Though he has spent much of the last week imagining Aramis and Porthos’ return - in anticipation, and joy, and a bit of fear - now that he knows the moment draws near, he finds himself teeming with uncertainties. There are things he must say - now, before the opportunity slips through his fingers forever, and all he has left is the memory of those moments in the stables, the press of lips against his and hands blissfully burning his skin. Athos still does not trust himself, and perhaps he never will, but he trusts his friends, more than he has trusted anyone. And so, there are things he must say.

But first, he must welcome his dear friends home. Athos has not attempted to make a meal for them, knowing that no meager fest he could concoct would match Porthos’ skill in the kitchen. But he has procured a few bottles of fine wine, one of which sits already open and half drunk on the kitchen counter. The steadying of his nerves has taken one, and then two, and three glasses. Now, shamefully, he pours himself a fourth.

He has never been very good with words.

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[du_vallon]

Their bags in the hallway beside them, Porthos had insisted that they not be allowed to enter the flat again until he's got Aramis in his arms, properly. Of course, that had been before he'd spent a good few minutes pinning Aramis to the wall, eagerly convincing him of that. "The sooner we're inside, the less chafing my poor trousers will need to endure," he murmurs fondly, crouching over to sweep Aramis into his arms, using his foot to kick open the door and stumble his way inside, laughing all the way.

His laugh dies off, but his smile stays on his face when he sights Athos in the kitchen. He sets Aramis down on the ground, only leaving to grab their bags before he can adjust himself and wander back into the room.

"Athos," he greets warmly, sighting the wine next. "I hope at least one of those bottles is for us."

[afineseamstress]

After such a kiss, Aramis cannot even begin to protest, beaming in delight as he is carried ridiculously over the threshold of their home. And, though it is not a role he claims often, nor would he ever admit to it aloud, he finds it pleasing to be carried as Westley carried Buttercup.

His smile does not dim as Porthos swings his legs down, though Aramis' brow does furrow a touch for the somber look on Athos' face. "You've not murdered the cat by accident, have you?"

[somepoorsoul]

“The cat is well,” Athos answers, rolling his eyes, though a grin curving at his lips despite himself, however briefly. He sips from his own glass, and then turns to pour the wine into two more.

“Welcome home."

[du_vallon]

Right up until Aramis had said the words, Porthos hadn't thought the cat in peril. So he's relieved when Athos says that he's well. He sheds his coat and hangs it up in the front hall, sliding Aramis' off for him with a lingering brush to his shoulder. In hanging them, he grins at the glint of the light off his ring, now meaning something more than before.

He turns to fetch a glass of wine with a grateful raise of his brows. "It's good to be here," he says. "Don't suppose you went shopping for any food while we were gone?" he suggests hopefully. He doesn't mind cooking, but he's not sure what he's got left to work with.

(And, now that he's thinking about it, he goes in search of the Captain to reassure himself of his being alive)

[afineseamstress]

Guessing the run of Porthos' thoughts, Aramis retrieves the Captain from where he sits obscured by the table's shadow in a dining room chair, handing him off before Porthos can fret too much.

As for the food, he has worried a touch over what Athos must be feeding himself - if anything - in their absence, and raises his eyebrows, eager for his reply. "I think it's the longest Porthos has gone without cooking since we arrived here."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos suppresses a sigh. “The larder will not be to your liking,” he confesses. As Aramis and Porthos might easily guess, he had been living on little more than bread, and cheese, and wine in their absence, but fairly contentedly. Athos appreciates Porthos’ fine meals, but knows that any attempt he might make to prepare something more complicated than toast would surely end in disaster.

He sets the glasses upon the kitchen table. “Have a seat. You can worry about dinner later."

[du_vallon]

Porthos takes the Captain into his arms with great affection, curling the thing in (harder now that he's larger, but not impossible). He still peeks into the fridge to see the state of it, but Athos is right. It's not remotely to his liking and will take a great deal of work to improve. Still, there's wine waiting and Athos seems as if he has something he wants to discuss. Porthos sets the cat free and wanders to the table for his wine, dragging out his chair and happily claiming a glass.

"Miss us?" he wonders, a teasing smile on his lips.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis, sensing that they might soon be worrying over something else, takes his seat more quietly, sinking into it to pluck his own glass near. It is good wine, which he has come to expect from Athos, but he finds himself too uneasy to enjoy it just yet.

In the wake of Porthos' question, Aramis ventures, "You have something to tell us."

[somepoorsoul]

“Don’t fret so, no one has died,” Athos deadpans, gaze settling gently on Aramis, and then Porthos. But the quip is meant to hide the way his nerves sing, and the wine he drinks down meant to calm them. Perhaps this is too much to thrust on them abruptly after they have returned, their bags not even unpacked. Athos had sworn to himself that he would leave them this time, that he would ensure that their bond was firm before he chanced upsetting the balance. But in the week since the wedding, he has missed the safety of their arms around him - more than he ever expected to.

By God, he is a fool. And soon, his dearest friends will know so for certain.

Hesitantly, he lifts his gaze from where it rests sightlessly on the table’s surface whilst he summoned his courage. “I did miss you,” he murmurs, nearly a whisper.

[du_vallon]

Porthos had only been teasing, but Athos' tone takes on more severity that should be there for something meant to be so light-hearted. He finds his pulse picking up speed as he wonders if they're going to talk about what he thinks they might be, wondering if it will actually happen. "Well," Porthos begins sensibly, his attention fixed on Athos as his eyes soften. Under the table, he reaches out for Aramis' hand to grasp.

"We're back now," he points out. "No plans for long trips," he assures. "Only day ones out to look at houses, eventually."

[afineseamstress]

"Which I imagine you'll be dragged along for anyway," says Aramis, brushing his thumb over Porthos' knuckles, dragging it forward to linger against the ring.

"Porthos and I have no mind for finances." He smiles a little. "Did you wait here for us to tell us that?"

[somepoorsoul]

By God, he is terrible at this.

Taking his empty glass with him, Athos retreats to the kitchen counter where another bottle of wine waits, and he opens it, his back to his friends. He had thought about what he would say in this moment for most of the week, had planned his words about as carefully as those he had shared at the wedding, but now they fly from his mind. “I don’t make for a very easy companion,” he quips. “Are you certain you wouldn’t rather escape back to your inn?"

[du_vallon]

Porthos gives a confused look in Aramis' direction, plainly broadcasting that he has no idea what Athos is going on about. "No," he says, slow and careful as he pushes his glass of wine a touch forward with his free hand. "And we want you there searching for homes with us. Like Aramis said, you need to help with the finances and it's important you like the place, too, seeing as it'll be your home."

He tilts his head to the side and wonders if he's supposed to take Athos' words differently, but for the life of him, he's not sure where they're meant to lead.

[afineseamstress]

Porthos has never had much patience. Aramis touches the toe of his boot to Porthos' heel, offering another bolster against his husband's nerves.

"We know very well what sort of companion you are," he tells Athos, "And we have not tired of you yet. Now turn and look at us." Aramis gives Athos' back an encouraging smile. "We haven't seen you in a week."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos has forgotten his prepared words entirely. He pours his wine, and then turns round as instructed, offering a sheepish smile. “You do,” he says quietly, “you know my faults better than anyone.” This is what he must remember. They understand him and have never shrunk away. They will not now.

He closes his eyes for a moment, wishing, strangely, that he had chosen to wear his uniform. But Athos remembers the locket that rests beneath his shirt, against his heart, and that gives him strength. “If you are certain that you would like me to share your bed, then I accept.” He offers a rueful look. Athos had not meant to cut right to the chase moments after they returned, but his has never excelled at the niceties of conversation.

“Welcome home."

[du_vallon]

For a second, Porthos hears nothing but a rush in his ears. For a second, he can't actually believe he's hearing what he is. His clasp on Aramis' hand turns so firm that he might crush a bone or two if not for the fact that he remembers himself a moment later. He pushes his chair back suddenly, the noise bringing him back to steadiness as he stares at Aramis like he's waiting for permission to cross the floor, but he's already beside Athos before he can stop himself.

"You will?" he confirms, half wary as if expecting a trick. His hands, however, are already sliding up and down Athos' hips and sides, like they're just waiting for the opportunity to grab like a vise and pin him in for Aramis. "Aramis, come here and show him how certain we are," he growls, waiting to flip Athos around for him until Aramis is on his feet.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis is slower to move, laughing faintly when the speed of Porthos' exit from the table actually moves his hair. He turns in his chair and sips his wine, a tempered eagerness in his eyes as he gazes on the pair of them.

The first time Porthos and he came together, it was like standing in a tempest. However much Aramis has hoped Athos would come to them, however he had expected it would happen, if not today then soon, he can't help but wonder if he knows just what he'll be unleashing upon himself.

Rising from his seat, Aramis comes forward. "Do you wish to begin now?" he asks, for if Porthos is to reign himself in, he will need every warning.

[somepoorsoul]

For just a moment, panic flickers in Athos eyes. For just a moment, he second-guesses everything he has thought through, every eventuality he has feared and set aside. For just a moment, he wonders what the hell he has gotten himself into.

But only for a moment. As careful and contemplative as he can be, Athos does not hesitate once he has made a decision. Now is no exception. He shifts closer to Porthos, grabbing his wrist, eyes intent upon the man even as he speaks to Aramis. “I have waited long enough, have I not?” he says in a low murmur, with a voice that barely seems his own.

His heart may be in his throat, but he wants this. He wants them.

[du_vallon]

Porthos takes that opportunity to tighten his grip, now, on Athos, turning him around until his back is pressed to Aramis' front. He pins him in place so he can't move, not when he's flush against Porthos' body, but before he can properly start, before they can devour him, there's one thing he wants to make clear.

"You're not just sharing our beds," he says firmly. "You're sharing our lives and I don't want to hear a single argument. Not one." He holds him, now, clasping his hips and Athos will bruise there, sharp fingerprints, Porthos is making sure of that.

He bows his head into Athos' neck to kiss where the locket lies, giving Aramis the floor, now.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis ducks his head, nose tucked behind Athos' ear to breath him in. This moment has grown closer to reality in fits and starts, moving in increments and then in leaps, and it is difficult to believe that it is really here. Aramis closes his eyes and breathes again, smelling wine and faint shampoo and the scent of Athos' skin beneath.

Reaching his arms around him, Aramis begins undoing the buttons of Athos' shirt, knuckles scraping the warmth of Porthos' chest as he works. "This is only part of it," he agrees, spreading a palm beneath Athos' ribs when the shirt is open, fingers dipping the barest inch beneath the hem of his trousers. "We want everything."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos inhales softly, giving himself over to the embrace with a slight shudder, eyes slipping shut. He had given the rest of himself over to these two men years ago, that is the truth of the matter - in fits and starts then, too, often without even realizing it, until they were les inseparables, never seen apart. In the end, when he had thought, and wondered, and stared sightlessly at the ceiling on sleepless nights, he had realized what a small thing this was compared to all of that heart and trust. Small, but wondrous.

Tipping his head to rest against Aramis’, he slides his hand down Porthos’ arm to grip his elbow, more steadied and certain than he has felt in a long time.

[du_vallon]

Porthos laughs softly from where he's laying a trail of kisses over Athos' skin, spinning him around to give Aramis the front of Athos' body to work with, now pinning him from behind. "Aramis and I kissed right here for the first time too, you know," he murmurs. "Inches from where we're standing right now. It's also where he vowed not to see other people. It's almost a shame we have to leave this place eventually. Seems lucky for us."

His heart is racing madly and wildly, only lifting his head to communicate with Aramis in a single brief moment, a look that asks if they shouldn't move to their spacious king-sized bed in the bedroom.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis replies with a lifted brow that says that when he finally steps back, Porthos really ought to put Athos over his shoulder to get him there. "We have many firsts ahead of us," he says, brushing Athos' open shirt from his shoulders as he slides forward, pushing a knee between his legs.

"But I have to ask." Aramis takes Athos' face in his hands and searches it. "Have you ever shared a bed with a man before?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos makes a soft sound as Aramis presses close, his heart beating hard in his chest. His locket is comfortingly cool against his skin in sharp contrast to the heat of their hands. He can feel the flush rise on his cheeks, a result of want and sheepish embarrassment combined, and he forces himself to meet Aramis’ gaze when he shakes his head.

Swallowing hard, he rests back in Porthos’ arms, fingers trailing lightly down Aramis’ chest. “As you say, many firsts."

[du_vallon]

Porthos grins for that, giving a nod to Aramis that says he ought to back away unless he means to get smacked in what he intends to do. In the meantime, he helps to push aside Athos' shirt, watching the path of Athos' fingers down Aramis' chest -- one of Porthos' favourite things in the whole world. "Aramis and I are plenty experienced," he promises. "We've got the lube, the condoms, and so many ideas, I think we could both burst."